Echoes

            Late at night as silence settled I sat in the patio and waited. I can’t pin point the exact day when they began but I’ll never forget the night I heard the scream. I was finishing my second cigar, gazing at the night sky. Nothing out of the ordinary, just another regular peaceful night until these eerie echoes came out of nowhere. They were echoes of metal slamming into rock, a haunting cry for help. That night was unreal and unfortunately not the last.

            At first, I thought it was a dream. I hoped I imagined it all like one bad, scary nightmare. The next morning I couldn’t help but replay the horror. I pictured myself turning to the woods as the second set of echoes rang in my ear. I froze thinking there was no way I could hear it for the third time. To my astonishment, I did. Three times was enough for me to bolt my way back inside the house. I could not face the thing that called in the night. Only when I step outside late in the hour would these echoes call to me.

            For the next few weeks since then I’ve been drawn to the noise, luring me each night. I did not want to admit it but the more I listen the more it became evident. The echoes were persistent and on schedule. Almost as if someone is strategically making those noises to get my attention. Come night fall, I sat in my patio and waited. Soon, those eerie echoes lurking in the distance would come out of hiding.

            This time I was prepared to find what or who is making that sound. Who or whatever is trying to get my attention has it now. I waited armed in black attire with a flashlight on hand, my phone in my pocket and a backpack loaded with equipment suitable for a hostile environment. I am ready to follow the echoes that breathed in the shadows. I waited for the trail of screams to help guide me through the woods to answer whatever plea that stood before me.

            On cue, the echoes lured me into the night. Flashlight in hand, I followed the trail. I disappeared into the woods, I entered the night. I had no clue where I was going but the consistency of the echoes led the way. The woods were pitch black and there was no path to guide me down a smooth road. Wherever the echoes were taking me I had no idea. Like a headless chicken, I made my way deep into the woods guided by faint echoes.

            My pace accelerated as the last set of echoes grew dimmer. What caused me to become consumed by curiosity enough so to explore the woods at night was beyond me at this point. There was nothing in the woods that held a clue as to what was causing those maddening echoes. I stood for a moment confused as hell. I was lost, I am certain of it. I waved my flashlight around thinking that would solve my problem. The echoes stopped.

            I could hear my blood rush through my ears as I stood. The silence was unpleasant. No animals preyed nearby. No distant hoot from a camouflage owl up in the trees. It’s almost as if the woods had been deserted by every animal and insect. The beam of light emitting from my hand revealed where I should go but I had the least idea where to start. I figure I make camp and wait for dawn to head back home. Better than getting completely lost in the dead of night.

            Thick clouds concealed the moonlight and the stars. I was surrounded by pitch black. I dropped my backpack and unpacked my sleeping bag. I gathered whatever twigs I could find near me and made fire. As I lit a match the echoes continued. This time, they felt desperate. They were more aggressive with no rhythm. Almost as if someone were slamming a rock into metal over and over and over again.

            I got to my feet and debated whether I should follow the noise or do nothing. I thought maybe they’ll stop eventually and I’ll probably end up getting more lost. I’d probably not even find whatever is making all that ruckus. I sat back down and warmed by the fire. The echoes seemed far but close enough to where they overpower the cracking of the wood burning.

            Not too long did I begin to have my doubts. Maybe I should have followed the noise. All this time yet still the echoes rang in the night. I did have time to follow the trail. I would have probably found the source and laid all this to rest. I kept my hands by the fire, gazing. The echoes were hard to miss and even harder to ignore. My gut instinct told me I should have done something. Instead, like before, I sat and waited for the echoes to stop.

            Dawn approached and I was on my way back home. Camping in the woods at night was pleasant to say the least. Though there were no stars or moon out, the breeze kept things cool. The chill air was the only good thing to come out of the whole ordeal. I promised myself this would be the last time I go wondering off into the woods alone at night. What a waist of time, I thought hiking back.

            My phone buzzed and to my surprise a local news alert popped on my screen. I opened the notification to find a report of a missing woman. She was last seen not too far from where I live. I didn’t bother to read the rest of the article, just the headline. Not much was said, as I skimmed through, just the usual be alert and safe at all times warning. The police have set a reward for information in regards to the missing woman’s whereabouts and the identification of the kidnapper.

            As noon rolled by, the whereabouts of the missing woman was all over the news. It began with a search that ended with a dead body. The police found the missing woman wrapped in Christmas paper like some present. The media revealed the location to where her body was found. I sat in horror as footage of the same woods I was wondering late last night play out on the television screen.

            I feared the police might come knocking at my door. The neighbors might have tipped the authorities of my late night stroll and think I had something to do with the woman’s untimely death. “The woman was kept alive,” the news reporter went on, “She was killed last night.” Last night, I whispered slouching to the couch. I didn’t want to be seen. That could have been me.

            The woman’s murder was on every news channel, even come by nightfall. I sat on the table looking out onto the patio. I had my cigar and lighter with me ready for my regular session with the stars but something kept me from going outside. The woods were disappearing as the sun faded, replaced by the blue moonlight. Do I dare with a murderer on the loose? Am I safer inside than out? I sat in the kitchen, silence settled. Just as I thought things were back to how they were, the echoes returned.

            I was determined to find the source this time. I bolted to the patio and sprinted to the woods. The light from my phone led the way as I followed the echoes. They would come and go, almost as if whoever or whatever was making them was giving up. They weren’t consistent or have some sort of rhythm like before. They were close, I could hear the metal slamming on rock this time; not just as echoes.

            “Hello?” I called, not knowing if someone would answer. The echoes were near but still unattainable. “Is someone there?” The echoes stopped as I got closer. Up ahead, a small cave was hidden by thick vines. I brushed them aside and entered the opening. A small dim light deep inside led me to a hidden cellar. Whimpers echoed as loud bangs screamed.

            “Help me, please!” someone shouted. I leaned against the wall hoping no one would see me. “Help!” the person screamed, shouted until their voice gave out.

            “Hello?” I called.

            “Hello!” the person answered almost immediately. “Who’s there?” A metal door stood between me and whoever was making those echoes. I could hear fear in their voice, almost as if they’ve been through hell. “Please help me! Get me out of here! I have a family that depend on me. Please, get me out of here!” I tried sliding the door open, searched for a knob to turn but a single lock prevented me from releasing this stranger from its torment. Nothing I did was helping. The door would not budge.

            I tried calling the police but I had no service. “I can’t open the door, it has a lock. I need a key.” I raved my phone around, desperately trying to find something to break the lock. I wasn’t much help. The person was beginning to get desperate. They kept slamming, banging a rock on the door; shouting at the top of their lungs for release. They wanted out. They wanted to feel some sort of normalcy after the hell they’ve lived through.

            “I will be back,” I promised. “I’m going to get help.” That was the last thing I remembered saying. I woke up later that night in a dark room. My head ached. I couldn’t see a thing. My phone was gone. No windows or cracked door let light in. “Hello!” I yelled, thinking I’d get a reply. “Where am I?” I searched around, not knowing what I’d find. I crawled until I reached the wall. I moved around searching for a switch that would reveal where I was but I could not find a switch.

            “Is there anyone there?” I cried, shouted, screamed until my lungs gave out but no one answered. How did I end up in this mess? I kept searching, not knowing where I was. I stumbled on a rock trying to find a way out. I blindly felt around the room trying to decipher where I was. I found a metal plate on the other side of the room. This might have been the door with the lock, only this time I was on the other side; on the inside.

            I took a rock I found near me and started slamming it on the metal door. I slammed it as hard as I could for as long as I could. Though my voice would give out on me, I kept slamming the rock trying to make as much noise as possible. Anything to get someone’s attention. It wasn't long until I realized what was making those echoes late at night. As I knocked and the echoes spilled out into the woods, I came to realize why I heard the echoes in the first place. The echoes that first came to me now began by me. I was now the cause, praying someone heard my plea but the world could care less.